


We come in pieces

by Drago



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Barebacking, Escort, Escort!Mickey, Jealous!Ian, M/M, Prostitution, Safe sex too, Unsafe Sex, emotional cheating, hurt!mickey, mentions of abuse, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-06 14:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8755975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drago/pseuds/Drago
Summary: One night, Ian, Trevor, Lip and Kev get drunk. Ian asks Kev is V and Svet are waiting for him and he says that they are out and the kids are with Mickey. Ian asks for more, Kev says that Mickey has lied to Ian about the 8 years and he is out by a year. He works as escort with Mandy, is very rich and very requested by many men. Ian is devastated by this, breaks up with Trevor and fixes a date with Mickey.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how other authors manage to write their prompts so fast, seriously. I'm sorry if it takes too long, but I really can't do it any faster. I hope you like it, dear Anon, and everyone else too.
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed this work.

Ian knows he shouldn't be drinking, but then again – can having one, strong drink be considered drinking? Especially in the Southside? He doesn't think so. It does get him drunk, but nowadays one beer makes him tipsy. At least it makes him a cheap date. Trevor is sipping on his third whiskey, no orange juice, and it's hard to tell how many Kev and Lip had. Lip definitely more than anyone else, but who is Ian to mention it? Their conversation is slowly dying down, but he is having fun. Kind of. It's definitely more fun than the mediocre sex he would be having with his boyfriend if they stayed at home. If jerking off and sucking can be considered sex.  
He is being unfair, it's definitely sex. It's just... Even without BD Ian had a big sexual appetite, and he likes penetration, nothing wrong with that. He dislikes being on the receiving end because no matter how many times he tried, it only felt okay. Mickey had to suck him off after anyway. With anyone else it simply hurt, even when Trevor tried to finger him. He suspects that his boyfriend doesn't like being fucked because it makes him feel like a girl, and Ian kind of has a problem with that, but he is not going to force himself on anyone or pretend to understand the feelings of a transgender person. He just wishes there was a solution to their problem because they are starting to grow apart, and he doesn't know how to stop it. Or maybe it's all his fault, Trevor seems happy with the sex they are having, while Ian has to close his eyes and think about fucking someone to actually come. He wonders if Trevor would consider it cheating. Probably. It feels like cheating.  
„Should you be drinking this much?” Ian asks Kev with amusement, when the older man pours himself another drink. „Lana and Vee will bite your head off when you come home unable to perform your marital duties.”  
„They have a girls night out while I'm spending time with my boys!”  
„I bet theirs entails more kissing and less taking,” Lip chuckles into his glass.  
„Wait, who is taking care of the kids then?” because he knows for a fact that his friends don't have the money to blow on a babysitter just to have some fun.  
„Mick. He doesn't expect to have sex with me, though he does have a really good ass,” Kevin admits almost dreamily; he doesn't even notice Ian choking on his own saliva as the world starts spinning around him.  
„But. Eight years. It was supposed to be eight years.”  
„Eight?” Kev scoffs. „For what? The evidence was flimsy at best, they only got to him because of the stuff he's done before. But he only got one year, and... Wait a minute, I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Fuck. He is going to bite my head off, after all. Fuuuuck. He makes such a good nanny too.”  
Ian is experiencing a brain freeze and, possibly, a heart attach at the same time. If Mickey only got a year then it means he's been out for about thirteen months. And he hasn't, not even once, tried to contact Ian. It hurts, he is not going to lie, it hurts so bad that he has to lean against the bar for support. Over two years. They haven't seen each other in over two years, so he shouldn't care anymore. Not when he has a boyfriend who is quietly asking if he is okay.  
„How... how is he doing?” he dares to ask.  
„He is doing fine, but I really shouldn't be telling you anything,” Kevin mutters before starting to talk about some game no one but him watched. Since when is Kev loyal to Mickey, of all people? He always liked Ian's ex, but they weren't best friends or anything. Ian was there first. It crosses his mind that Kev might be trying to protect Mickey, and the worst part is that it makes a lot more sense than he is willing to admit. He has so many questions, but at the same he is anxious to see how much Mickey has changed. He has this picture in his mind, he remembers the older boy as someone who loved him unconditionally, and he is afraid that it's no longer the case. He doesn't want Mick to be any different because he wasn't the part of this change, he wasn't there to see it. But he is aware that no one leaves the prison unscathed.  
He tries to fight his curiosity, tells himself that he is better off not knowing. He is just not very good at pretending to believe that. Trevor definitely notices that something is up, but Ian shuts him out. He doesn't want Trevor to know, he made that mistake with Caleb, and he is not going to make it again. He doesn't know how to explain his first real relationship without putting on blame on Mickey. It's a defense technique, that's what his therapist says. He is unable to handle the truth of what he's done. It's harsh, but definitely true. Mick wanted to talk, but Ian never let him.  
He lasts two weeks. Half of the time it feels like he is suffocating. He spends the other half angry at himself for being unable to let it go. He finally loses the battle when Mandy comes over. His beautiful, stunning friend who looks so much like Mickey that sometimes he can't even look at her.  
He has no chance with Kev or Svetlana, but Vee always had a soft spot for him, so this is where he goes. He makes sure to look exhausted, a little sick. He promised to himself that he would never play the BD card again, but he doesn't see any other option. Trevor would tell him that sometimes honesty works best, but what does he know. He never screwed anyone over so much that even his friends kind of turned their backs on him. Ian is willing to do whatever it takes to get the information he needs. He starts by moping around Veronica, buttering her up with puppy eyes and a soft, sad voice. And even though she knows him, knows how he operates, she still falls for it because, in the end, she still loves him more than she hates him. So he lays his head on her lap and quietly asks, „Can you tell me about Mickey? Please?”  
Vee sighs heavily, like it's the last thing she wants to do, but she still says, „He is doing really well. He works with Mandy. Well, not with her, they just do the same thing. It would be sick if they did this together, you know what I mean? It's a little bizarre, to be honest, men are tripping over themselves to fuck him, so he is fucking loaded now. And he is really good for Yev, our girls too. Takes them out, buys them stuff, seems to love them. Sometimes it feels a bit weird when he leaves, and I realize that some rich guy is going to bend him over and fuck, he is the thug here, right? Besides... Holy shit, Ian, baby, are you okay?”  
And maybe Ian is crying, so what.

He does try with Mandy, even though she watches him with sharp eyes, and he knows that she is waiting. It's not a game he can win, but he will try all the same.  
“Can you give me his number?” he doesn't have to specify.  
“No. I don't want you to contact him.”  
“Why?” Ian can come up with many answers to that question, but he wants to hear it, he wants to know which one will his friend choose.  
“Because, throughout years, I chose you. Over and over again I chose you, even when I knew you were wrong. I chose you when Mickey was hurting. He took care of me, and I hurt him with you. I'm not doing this again. Never again.”  
It's not the answer he expects, but at the same time it hits harder than anything he can come up with. It makes him realize that, while he had his family, Mandy, Kev and Vee, Mickey only had him. And when Ian turned on him, Mickey was completely alone. Other Milkovich brothers are simple people, and because of the way they were raised they don't think that men need support. He took everything, leaving Mick on his own.  
Ian steals the number. At least he thinks he gets the right one because there is no name, it's simply saved under the 'Escort King', and it's his best guess. Just thinking about it makes his stomach turn. He vaguely remembers fucking guys for money, he has no problems with Svetlana and Mandy doing the same, but it's different with Mick. With someone he loved.  
The anger finally kicks in when he lies awake while everyone else is asleep. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. What is so special about Mickey that guys are willing to pay big money for his ass? Sure, he is a great lay, adventurous too, but so are many others. He starts searching the internet while the anger is still bubbling under his skin. He could use the number he stole, but where would that get him? It's easy to hang up without talking. He finds Mandy's escort company, but Mickey isn't listed on their website which seems prett weird, maybe Ian is a butt of some sick joke. Then he finds a personal website; it's black and dark red, and looks very professional. There aren't many pictures, and he can't really see the face of a guy in them, he is mostly hidden in shadows, but Ian recognizes the full lips, the way this guy is holding himself. In one of the pictures Ian can only see his naked back, the slope of the shoulders he remembers kissing. It's Mickey, no doubt about that.  
The number he finds is different, but that's not surprising. There is also a form he can use, and that's what he goes for instead. Mick would definitely recognize his voice. He hesitates twice. The first is when he has to send a photo as a safety precaution. He uses one of the very few pictures of Caleb that he still has. The second time is when he has to choose a booking option and sees the prices. He can even book a whole night or weekend, but the price is exorbitant, he can't afford it. One hour will have to do. Why would Mickey even put it there? There is no way anyone chooses it, not for this price. He clicks 'submit' and a message pops up telling him to wait for the confirmation. It's much more complicated than what he imagined. Escorts are essentially whores, so why bother with hiring them if it takes so much time and effort? You can easily pick up a whore from almost every corner in Chicago. At least he is doing it for a good reason.  
He breaks up with Trevor the next day because, if he is going to pay this much for an hour with his ex, then he is sure as hell going to fuck him. He is done with cheating and being cheated on, and Trevor definitely wouldn't take too kindly to Ian asking if he can fuck Mickey. The main reason, though, is that he wants this. He misses having sex with the older boy, misses the way he smells. He doesn't tell that Trevor, but he gets punched anyway for not accepting who Trevor is. It's utter bullshit. At first Ian had a hard time wrapping his head around the whole transgender thing, but he read up on it, educated himself and realized that he doesn't really mind. So Trevor trying to make him feel guilty about it makes him angry. Ian is the one at fault here, but he is not guilty of being transphobic. But he knows that, no matter what he says, Trevor will tell everyone his own version. It doesn't make him sad, he doesn't feel anything but excitement.  
He's never been excited to see a new email before, but this time his hands are shaking slightly as it opens revealing that 'Adam' accepted his request. Adam. This is the most basic male name that Mickey could come up with, and it doesn't suit him at all, but it serves its purpose. It's easy to remember, and just as easy to forget when the right time comes. Ian is, obviously, not going to use it. And for the whole week he has to wait it doesn't occur to him, not even once, that Mickey might refuse to let him in. Ian is given a room number in some fancy hotel, and just as he is about to knock a sudden wave of cold makes him freeze. Maybe he should leave without knocking, make the other man think that his client bailed. Maybe he should have listened to Mandy.


	2. Chapter 2

He knocks. It's like his body ignored his brain and went for it, he has no recollection of deciding to knock. It's ridiculously loud in a quiet corridor, and few seconds later Mickey opens the door. Ian concentrates on his face, on the first few seconds when he can see the real, raw emotions. Surprise, that's what it is. It quickly morphs into anger, “What the fuck are you doing here?”  
“It's me, I booked you. Used the name Caleb.”  
“What the fuck for?”  
“Heard you've been back for a while, I needed to see you.”  
“Mandy told you what I do?”  
“No, it doesn't matter, who did. Can I come in?”  
“You have the money?”  
“Yeah.”  
Mickey shrugs and leaves the door open as he moves further inside. The room is amazing, something Ian remembers from when he used to sleep with old, rich men. He can see the whole city, and it looks beautiful when he can't see the dirt or the people. It looks nothing like the city he knows, just like Mick looks like a completely different person. He is wearing a tight, dark purple shirt with perfectly pressed, black suit pants that hug his ass, thighs and crotch. He is even more fit than he used to be, muscles bulging under the material. The haircut he is sporting is almost the same as he had when they were still together, but now it screams 'expensive', like someone really put effort into making the man look good. And he does, he looks so good that Ian is half-hard within seconds, even though Mickey's eyes are ice cold when he stares at him.  
“How do you want me?”  
“Uh.”  
“Your regular shit? Suck you a bit and then let you plow my ass? Or do you want to have more fun, gag me, tie me up, shove your hand up my ass?”  
“What?”  
“Yeah, I do all that. You'd be surprised how deep it can go. Or maybe you wanna piss on me? Fuck me in lingerie?”  
“What?” Ian repeats, brain refusing to work properly. He looks at his fist; it's really big.  
“You into that? Okay, bitch, let's do this.”  
Mickey undresses without much care, he isn't trying to look sexy, and he doesn't have to try. Ian stares at Mick's chest expecting to see his own name. Instead, he finds an intricate design of a dragon staring back at him. It almost makes his erection flag, but how could it around someone so beautiful?  
Mickey drops to his knees to unzip Ian's pants and pull out his dick, making a quick work of jacking it a few times before rolling down the condom. Seconds later his throat doesn't even constrict when nine inches fill it. His blow jobs used to be clumsy, he gagged a lot, never able to take the whole thing. And now he is deepthroating it like a pro. Because that's exactly what he is, a professional whore, used to sucking all sizes.  
“I wanted to talk,” Ian tries again, voice weak. Mickey stands up, lips even redder and fuller than before, and pushes him towards the bed. There is a huge, red bottle of lube on the bedside table that makes Ian squirm.  
“Lube up your hand up to the elbow, and let's get to it, you only have fourty minutes left,” Mickey says almost conversationally, getting on all fours on the bed.  
“No, fuck, I don't want to fist you!”  
“Whatever, just get on me.”  
“On your back,” the older man doesn't react, so Ian grabs him by the arm and flips over. “On your back, okay, I wanna see your face.”  
Mickey sighs, but obediently spreads his legs and lifts his hips. They never used protection before, and Ian wants to rip it off now, leave a part of himself inside the smaller man. But that's something that will definitely get him kicked out, so he carefully pushes inside the body he used to know so well. He meets no resistance, Mick is loose and slightly swollen.  
“Had a client before you. Fucked me so good, made me cum twice. Licked my ass like it was a fucking Christmas candy.”  
It makes Ian thrust hard, his hands curl around his partner's small hips, and he makes sure to go as fast and hard as he can. He missed the way Mickey used to quietly sigh and moan while they were having sex, but the other boy is completely silent as he lets Ian use his body. Even his cock is limp.  
“You talk like that to all clients?”  
“Only to those who screwed me over before. Left me all alone, had to be paid to see me in prison. Oh, right, it was only one person.”  
“You told me eight years! You lied!”  
“So what? What does it change? I didn't want to see your ugly face ever again,” Mick smirks at him.  
Ian puts one hand around his throat and squeezes. It's not enough to choke his partner, but enough to make breathing a little more difficult, “You used to love this face.”  
“I didn't know any better. You were a good fuck in the Southside, but here? Here I get drilled by cocks that are bigger, fatter and more skilled. Have one after you, booked me for the whole night. He is going to spank me, pour wax on me before he fucks me handcuffed to this bed. I will enjoys every second of it.”  
Mickey finally gasps when Ian slaps his mouth. The he kisses him. Mick tastes like blood and mint, and Ian sucks on his tongue to get the taste of _him_. He can't breathe, can't see anything but the blue, can't think as he comes, his cry getting lost in their kiss. His softening cock slips out of Mick's body, but he refuses to move away. He touches Mickey's face that lost any softness it had before, it's all sharp lines now, and Ian wasn't there to see it.  
“I'm so sorry. I don't even know how I can make it up to you, but I regret everything I've said and done.”  
When Mickey's fingers brush against his temple he realizes that the older man didn't willingly touch any part of his body apart from his dick before, “But you've still done it. You can't take it back.”  
Ian wants to stay longer, he wants to talk, really talk and not exchange hurtful words, but he has only few minutes left, and he has to be gone by the time the other client arrives. Mick disappears in the bathroom, cleaning himself for the next person who gets to fuck him. Ian is not okay with that.  
He can only afford two sessions a month. 'Afford' means that instead of saving up, like he is supposed to, he spends it on fucking his ex-boyfriend and trying to make things better between them. It doesn't seem to be working. Ian fucks Mickey in every position he can think of, but his partner never gets hard because he's already been fucked or blown at least twice, or more, before their meeting. It feels entirely one-sided, and Ian suspects that it's like that with him only, Mick has to be different with other clients because, while highly satisfying, it lacks real passion. He thinks about it a lot, about how things could be different if he made an effort before. There wouldn't be anything to fix if he had waited.  
“You know that fucking my brother won't make him come back to you, right?” Mandy asks, lazily flipping through the magazine, looking for a new haircut inspiration.  
“He told you?”  
“Yep. He tells me shit now. And I'm telling you that you won't get anywhere with fucking.”  
“He doesn't want to meet in any other place, what else am I supposed to do?”  
“Maybe take a hint? It's for the best. All you do is take from him. Leave him alone, please. Please Ian, leave my brother alone.”  
But he is not very good at denying himself, even worse at putting other people's needs before his own. He doesn't really believe that he is not good for Mick. They both used to be pretty bad before Mickey got better. It took Ian more time, but he is there now.  
He doesn't think that the whole hooking business is good for his ex. Because Ian thinks he knows the type of clients that Mickey attracts. Old queens whose lives didn't go as planned, closeted businessmen who are too old and ugly to pull a twink in a club for free. But one day he arrives thirty minutes early and sees a client leaving. He can't be older than twenty five, and his face is perfect. Every single part of it is perfect. Ian knows he is attractive, but this guy is giving him a complex. He also looks like he is packing at least as many inches as Ian, which already is too many.  
He turns around and runs. He calls Mickey five minutes before they are scheduled to meet and cancels, using his job as an excuse. He knows it's ridiculous, but he can't help it. Suddenly, he feels inferior. Maybe he should stay away. Maybe there is someone better, richer, waiting for his chance to be with Mick. He spends the night sobbing into a pillow. The realization ht hits him in the morning as he is lighting up another cigarette. He is finally mourning the relationship he lost. He didn't allow himself to think about it, and everyone around him was comfortable with _not_ talking about Mick. His life got so busy after the break up that he didn't think he needed it. So he cries until the skin around his eyes feels raw, but breathing is a little bit easier.  
He really means it this time. He tries to live his life without Mickey, tries to spend more time with his siblings again. It makes him notice that Debbie is doing surprisingly well for a single mother without a steady income. Franny has a lot of new clothes and toys, and when he asks Carl about Debbie disappearing in the evenings, his brother tells him that she is taking some classes. But Franny doesn't stay at home with them, which is even weirder.  
“Mick pays for the babysitter. Sometimes he does it himself, when he is not busy sucking balls.”  
“What the fuck, Carl?” Debbie shrieks.  
“Shit, you are right, 'no telling Gallagher'. We all are Gallaghers though,” Carl grumbles.  
“He's been paying for your shit?” Ian interrupts their bickering.  
“And Carl's. Kind of. None of your business.”  
“I'm your brother!”  
“So? Mickey is the one who helps me.”  
Ian doesn't know which issue to address first. He hasn't been around much, and he's been trying to ignore the problems his family has, but that's because he needs to protect himself. He can't let everything get to him. But maybe he should have thought about it a bit more, should have paid more attention to his younger siblings. Until now, he didn't even notice that Carl got better, he really seems to be into this police gig, and someone obviously has been helping him go straight.  
He crawls back to Mickey, who this time watches him carefully. He doesn't say anything, but Ian is sure he is wondering whether he had one of his episodes. Ian could tell him, but he doesn't want to scare the other man off. Instead, he licks and sucks Mick's ass and cock, gets him hard despite his weak objections, and then rides him until Mickey closes his eyes and bites his fist to avoid moaning. He gets a blowjob after that, but the look on Mick''s face is the sweetest reward he could get. They share a cigarette, and Ian burns his fingers because he doesn't want to stop smoking.  
Ian is in love. In fact, Ian never stopped being in love. He tells Lip, and the worst part is that Lip just nods, like he already knew. “You were trying too hard to fall in love with other guys, you know. Like you wanted to trick yourself into thinking that what you feel is for them, not Mick.”

***

It feels like they are stuck in a situation that's uncomfortable for the both of them, but then two things happen. Neither of them is good, but they lead to something positive.  
“I have to cancel. I can't fuck you today,” Mickey never calls him first, so Ian thought that he finally got his chance. Getting blown off doesn't worry him as much as the pain lacing Mick's voice. It's something most people who work in the medical field get after a while, you can hear when people are hurting even when they pretend to be alright.  
“Tell me the room number, I'm coming anyway. I don't want to fuck.”  
The fact that the older man doesn't try to pick a fight almost sends Ian into a panic attack, but he grabs his bag instead and heads for the hotel. At first glance, Mickey seems alright, there are no visible bruises, and he is holding himself straight. He tries to take off Ian's pants, “No. Let's sit down.” He sits on the bed, but Mick makes no move to join him. He shakes his head. He can't.  
“What happened?”  
“My client. He got too rough.”  
“Is there any tearing?”  
Mickey shrugs, “There was blood.”  
“Fuck. Pants off, let me check,” he can see Mick hesitate. “Pants off! I have my EMT stuff with me, I'm not trying to fuck with you.”  
Slowly, gingerly, the older man strips and lies down on his belly. Ian can already see some blood, but it's not as bad as he feared. He puts the latex gloves on and gently spreads Mickey's buttocks. He touches around the reddened hole before inserting two fingers and prodding around. When he pulls out his fingers are stained with blood, but he doesn't think they will have to go to the hospital. There are no more than two fissures, and they aren't big. He applies the nitroglycerin ointment before helping Mick pull up his boxer briefs. He wants to find the guy who did this and beat him to a bloody pulp.  
“What's his name?”  
“Doesn't matter. Iggy will take care of him, I can't have that on my record. He is not coming back anyway.”  
“You need to be more careful.”  
“I'm plenty careful, fuck you very much.”  
Ian sits next to the bed so his face is close to Mickey's. Even in pain, his man is beautiful. They stare at each other for a while, and it's the most at peace Ian has been in a long time. “I will die if something happens to you again. Rest a lot,” he kisses Mick's temple and leaves before the other man can react.

The second time, Ian loses someone. It happened before, when he was still with Trevor. But this time it's a kid, no older than ten. A kid that dies before he starts resuscitating him. He can hear people around him talking, someone is wailing, and Ian wants to cry with them. But he pretends to be strong because that's his responsibility. He can't break down like a bitch in front of everyone, not anymore. He soldiers on, finishes his shift like he doesn't give a fuck about a kid dying in his arms. And then he calls Mickey on his private phone that he's never used before. It's not even six a.m. yet, so Mickey sounds half asleep and half pissed off when he picks up and growls, “What?”  
“I need you, Mick, I need you,” Ian sobs into the receiver, then listens to a few seconds of silence.  
“I will text you the address.”  
When he gets there, it's not a hotel. The building is in a nice neighbourhood, but it's not a hotel. It must be Mickey's flat, and it makes Ian sob harder. By the time he rings the doorbell he is a complete mess. Mick pulls him inside, removes his jacket and shoes, and leads him towards the bedroom.  
“Why are you crying?”  
“I lost a kid, he was just a kid,” Ian's whole body shakes with how hard he is crying. The older man proceeds to remove his shirt and pants, leaving him in boxers only.  
“Lie down,” and Ian does just that, he is pliant under Mickey's hands, unable to stop the tremors running through his body.  
“I've lost someone before, it's not the first time,” he continues while Mick starts peppering his neck and pectorals with soft, butterfly kisses. “It's different when it's a child. I felt so useless.”  
He shivers involuntarily when Mick's breath caresses his ear right before a warm, wet tongue presses against the shell of his ear. Even as distressed as he is right now, he finds it pleasant. It's also very intimate and usual, it's not something they share during their sessions.  
“You can't save everyone. It's not your responsibility. You responsibility is to give your best. People are going to die, kids are going to die, but it's not your fault as long as you do everything you can,” Mickey whispers, lips brushing against Ian's ear with every word he says. His left hand travels down the redhead's body and slides under the boxers. Short, strong fingers wrap around his girth and massage it to hardness. “And I know you do just that. You give your everything, one hundred percent of what you have. Look how far you came. You need to concentrate on all the people you saved, there are so many,” Mickey's fingers tease his glans, and Ian's breath speeds up, hips buckling with every stroke.  
“You are so good, so brave,” Mickey presses one more kiss to his ear before straddling him. Ian didn't notice when the older man undressed, but he is wearing a t-shirt only. Mick jerks him off one more time, then guides Ian's cock inside himself. It's tight and hot, and his body tingles with pleasure that's slowly taking over. Tears are drying on his cheeks, the hollow feeling melting away. It's not the sex that's getting to him, he hopes the other man knows that.  
“Say it again. Say my name,” he begs. He desperately needs to touch, and he realizes that he can, he is not going to get stopped. He lets himself rub the soft thighs and slim hips, moves further back to touch the firm ass that grips him so perfectly. His long fingers brush against the stretched hole and stay there. Now he can feel their connection in more than one way.  
Mickey indulges him with a small, kind smile that is completely foreign to him. “Ian, you are so strong,” his hips rock rhythmically, it's almost soothing, in a way. Not too fast or rough, enough to slowly bring them to the completion. “I'm so proud of you, Ian. You went to the hell and back, but you never gave up.”  
“I love you,” he thinks he is going to start crying again, but his partner lowers himself to kiss him properly.  
“I know, baby,” Mickey whispers the last word into his lips, and they are back to kissing languidly. Ian's orgasm sneaks up on him, he didn't even know he was this close. He comes with a startled gasp after Mick bears down and tightens even more around him, milking him dry. He is coming inside the older man, there is nothing between them. For the first time in over two years nothing separates him from his man, and Ian wants to stay buried inside him forever.  
He reaches for Mickey's cock, and the other man lets him. Lets him stroke and jerk until warm cum is spilling between his fingers. It hurts when Mick clenches around his spent cock, but it feels so right, pieces finally falling together again. Every relationship he had, every mediocre fuck he had means nothing as Mickey moans his name above him.


End file.
